All he felt was shame
by SuperHeroFanGurl
Summary: Standing at Fred's funeral, Ron finally understands what Harry went through for all those years and reflects on past actions... things he's done... things he regrets... And now, it's time to finally make amends... SEQUEL IS UP!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is just something I thought of doing! Hope you enjoy it!  
Disclaimer: I don't *stutters* I don't, o-own Harry! There okay! I said it! Now screw you! Screw FanFiction and its stupid, idiotic rules about disclaimers, screw you all!**

**Summary: Standing at Fred's funeral, Ron finally understands what Harry went through for all those years and reflects on past actions...things he's done... things he regrets... **

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**Ron POV**

I had always sympathized, tried to comfort Harry, during those nights when it all became too much. But I never truly understood, well how could I? When I never really knew what it was like to feel loss...

He's felt it multiple times, his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Dobby, Remus...

The loss of Fred alone was enough to break me, but when I found myself teetering on the edge, the people I love pulled me back, preventing me from tumbling into the darkness. For when I saw the green slice through the air, striking my brother, seeing Fred crumple, I felt a small part of my heart wither and die, leaving a gaping hole, one that would not be healed. Yes, the hole could be patched up, knitted back together and made smaller over time, but it would always _be there_, making its presence known when I see something that reminds me of him...

My wounded heart tormented me, still does, it tore through me, cutting cracks in the walls that were so carefully built to guard my sanity. And when Harry found me, situated at the top of the Astronomy tower, feet dangling over the edge, the night after the battle, _he _was the only thing that kept me from jumping.

I had been startled out of my musings when I'd heard a soft gasp behind me, alerting me of another's presence in the tower. I had held my breath, going stock still and waiting for the berating and the questions that would surely come, but I was shocked to find that they never did.

Instead I heard slow, cautious footsteps near me and felt a small hand slip into mine, a hand that I knew anywhere. It grasped mine firmly and pulled me up into a standing position. Harry hadn't said a word as he gently lead me back to the empty common room, nor had he said anything when he sat us down on the couch next to the fire, covering us over with a blanket. All he did was snuggle into my side and wait, waiting for an explanation, or just waiting for me to say something, I don't know.

We had stayed there for hours, watching the fire crackle and burn, until only embers glowed in the hearth. My eyes had felt heavy by this time and I felt myself drifting off, looking down at the small body, curled up against me I asked, "does it get better?"

Harry yawned slightly before looking at me with haunted eyes, "over time," he answered.

I think that was when it hit me, all of what Harry had been through. He'd lost friends and family so many times now that it was amazing he had found the strength to pick himself back up again and carry on.

I wasn't there for him, no one was really, we would whisper a few words of comfort and hold him while he cried, but that was it. We never really talked to him or gave much care about how he was feeling. I remember envying Harry, for the fame he had, not even caring that he obtained it through no fault of his own, not caring that he had lost his parents that night, that he had been orphaned.

I never took Harry's feelings about Cedric's death into consideration, not after fourth year, I had just expected him to stay strong, to push past it and fight Voldemort, like he was meant to. Because it would always come down to those two, always.

And Harry did stay strong, on the outside at least, he set up the DA, fought Voldemort and lived through a torturous year of torments and nightmares. We helped him through that, said that he shouldn't believe the whispers and not to take it personally, but looking back on it I can see another reason for his sadness. A reason that wasn't thought of, by me, or by Hermione.

Because we failed to realize that Harry lost a friend that night in the grave yard, failed to see the pain in his eyes. It happened again to, in sixth year, there were a few passing words of comfort but other than that I never really thought about Sirius's death, none of us did. Nor did we notice the guilt that clouded our little brother's eyes every time another death occurred.

And it eats me alive to know that I've used those deaths against him more than once, like in the tent, when I walked out on them, how I used his orphan status against him, told him he had no family. But he did have family, it had just been ripped away from him.

And now, as Harry stepped up to the podium to give his speech, looking so small and fragile, broken, all I feel is shame. Shame for not helping through his grief, like he helped me.

Tears are rolling town his cheeks and he stumbled over Fred's name, his small body shaking with suppressed sobs as he tries to put on a brave face... Because he was a part of my family, and he was Fred's brother too. I stood from my seat and stepped up to the podium, wrapping my arm around his slim shoulders and clearing my throat.

"Let me finish it," I whispered, I felt Harry nod and he turned to bury his face in my side. Tears blurred my vision as I read out the words he had written, but I kept talking, because sometimes you have to put on a brave face for the people you love, when they can't be brave anymore.

And as I lead Harry away from the podium as the crowd erupted into applause, I took him firmly by the shoulders and made him look at me.

"You don't have to be brave all the time Harry, it's okay to cry." And cry he did, Harry collapsed into my arms while I rubbed his back soothingly, his tiny frame shuddering as he fell apart.

I lead him away from the funeral after that, apparating back to the burrow, sitting him down with me on the couch and holding him close to me.

"I'll look after you Harry, I promise."

And he did.

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**Aww, I think Harry deserves to be looked after. Don't you? R&R guys!**


	2. Sequel alert!

**Sequal is posted! It's called 'Sticking by him' and probably isn't the best I could have done but it's something right? **

**So read it, please? It'd mean the world to me! :D**


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